Chilled to the Bone
by maggiexxmoment
Summary: Every year when winter rolls around, the cold doesn't fail to make Mia miserable. When walking through the park one night, she finally discovers why. JackxOC
1. Chapter 1

**So I recently finally got around to watching Rise of the Guardians, and lemme tell ya - I finally understand what all of the fangirling is about. Naturally, I decided to mess around and came up with this. It's pretty much the first thing I've posted that isn't my main story, but it's also the first thing I've finished and been satisfied with enough to post.**

**Anyway, this isn't a self-insert, so don't worry about that. I'm not totally sure how I feel about it, but I'll definitely continue it if people like it. Hopefully it isn't brutal or cheesy or embarrassing or anything, heh.**

**Enjoy! :)**

* * *

"Ugh, why does winter have to be so _cold?"_ I grumble irritably as I trudge through the front door of my apartment. I have trouble even lifting my arm to turn the doorknob, as I'm currently bundled up in a long-sleeved shirt, hoodie and heavy winter jacket, topped off with a thick pair of wool mittens.

If it isn't obvious at this point, let me just make it crystal clear – I _hate _winter. I simply cannot handle the cold and the snow and the frigid wind. Just one step outside makes me long for the warm breeze of summer, where all I need to venture outside is a t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

I begin the long process of removing layers from my ensemble. First the long scarf and mittens, allowing me to be able to work the pesky zipper on my jacket. I let the thing fall to the floor and lean down to unzip my knee-highs, into which I've crammed my double-socked feet. Finally, off comes the thick pullover and thermal shirt, leaving me in just a tank top and jeans. I know well enough to keep my apartment warm enough that this doesn't present a problem.

I hum to myself as I begin preparing a cup of hot cocoa. This has been my daily ritual since winter crept its way into town – I come home from classes, peel off my protective layer, and warm myself up with delicious, chocolaty goodness. Now that it's the last day of classes before Christmas, I'm in particularly high spirits. Now, if I feel like it, I don't have to leave my apartment until Christmas, meaning I don't need to face that nasty cold.

While the water boils, I frown to myself. As fun as that plan sounds, my troublesome friends will probably find a way to drag me out of my lair. They always manage to sucker me into going _skating _or _sledding _or something equally dreadful. I mean, things are probably fun for them when they have the warmth of alcohol keeping the chill away, but no amount of the stuff can keep me from complaining about the temperature.

Grabbing the steaming mug, I head over to my armchair by the window to gaze out over town. I wasn't always so sensitive to the cold. When I was younger, you couldn't get me to come inside unless you dragged me by my feet. I was the first one to rejoice over snow days, the best at making snowmen, and the deadliest warrior you'd ever have the ill luck to face in a snowball fight. But as time went on, the cold seemed to turn on me and with each year that passed I became less and less tolerant to it.

"Oh, it looks like Jack Frost has a thing for you!" I mumble, rolling my eyes and quoting one of my mother's stupid jokes. That's her brilliant logic behind my aversion to the cold, and it doesn't help that my friend Jamie always agrees with her. The two of them alone are enough to drive me crazy. To me, it seems more like "Jack Frost" gets a kick out of making me miserable.

I sit there for several minutes, draining every last drop of my drink. It isn't long before I feel a rumble in my belly that reminds me it's close to 7 already and I haven't eaten since lunchtime. I hop up and head over to the fridge. Guess it's supper time then.

However, my jaw drops as I open the fridge and examine its contents, which are close to empty. Let's see…half a jar of strawberry jam, one stick of celery, two slices of cheese, leftover Chinese food from four nights ago, and a carton of milk that is…

I take it out and give it a shake. Empty. Great. As always, I've forgotten to buy groceries. While I can try my luck with the Chinese food, something tells me that the foul smell assaulting my nose is _probably _coming from that general direction.

Taking a glance at the clock, I realize with a sudden panic that the grocery store is going to close soon. With my luck, if I don't go tonight then tomorrow I'll probably get snowed in and starve to death. I have to be quick if I'm going to walk. Which means I don't have time to put on four layers of clothing.

I sigh and pull on my jacket, wincing as the still-cold material touches my bare arms. I quickly put on my boots, scarf and toque and, grabbing my wallet and shoving it in my pocket, dart out the door.

* * *

I'm still cursing myself as I cut through the park. Under normal circumstances, I would pause to admire how beautiful the park looks during the winter. Old fashioned streetlamps flicker along the pathways, and the large pond in the center is lined with pine trees. Each tree is strung with twinkling lights of every color, and the thick sheet of ice covering the pond reflects them dully, as though through a fogged mirror. This is the wretched place my friends always drag me to for skating and snowball fights, so I know it well.

_SMACK!_

I let out a startled cry as something hard strikes me in the back. Of course, my overactive imagination begins spewing out ridiculous possibilities as to what it was, the silliest being that I've just been shot. Once the shock wears away, however, I realize it was simply a snowball.

Not that _that's _anymore reassuring. Now I'm scowling at the darkness, trying to pick out the idiot who threw the damn thing.

"Who's there?" I call out, but my voice is trembling from the cold so it's not all that intimidating.

I'm met by silence. I glance above to see the skeletal branches of an oak tree swaying slightly. Perhaps a heap of snow just fell on me? But that didn't make sense. It was hard enough to make me stumble. It didn't hurt or anything, but someone definitely threw it.

While I'm pondering, I'm hit yet again, this time in the back of the head. The impact causes my hat to slip off my head and the cold air is immediately nipping at my face.

"This isn't funny!" I snap. I tug my scarf up over my face to shield it from the cold and begin searching for my hat. Conveniently, it's nowhere to be seen. At this rate, the grocery store is going to close before I even make it there. "Who is it?!"

Almost in response, an icy breeze swirls around me. I pull my jacket tighter around me, shivering, and take another look around the park. Alright, where is the little punk?

A rustle in the bushes. I whirl around to see what it is, but my feet suddenly become unaware of the thin layer of ice beneath them and I slip and fall, landing hard on my butt.

"Oww…" I groan. The fall knocked the wind out of me, so now I'm just laying here making a wheezing sound and trying to breathe. When I find the little brat that's doing this, his head is going in a snow bank.

The sound of barely suppressed snickering causes a fresh bout of anger to bubble up in my gut. "You think this is funny, huh?!" I shout irritably, but my voice still sounds like it belongs to an old lady so I remain laying on the ground, focusing my gaze on the distant stars.

The perpetrator doesn't respond. Instead, my vision is blocked out by none other than my hat, dangling in front of my face from the end of a hooked, wooden staff. I reach out to snatch it back but it's gone from my vision and the snickers resume, this time louder.

I do my best to draw in one, huge gulp of air. Next, I pull myself into a sitting position and look around. Gone. How the hell did that person manage to disappear so quickly? They were hanging my hat over my face like a cat toy just a few seconds ago, and now they're nowhere to be seen.

"Good, hide!" I warn the unseen person. "It's for your own good, because you really don't wanna be close to me right now!"

Silence. I begin to shiver; sitting on the cold ground in a pair of jeans doesn't really do much to protect you from getting a chill, and now my butt's going numb.

"Great," I mutter. "Only I would get frostbite on my ass of all places." I think of my mother and Jamie's stupid jokes and start getting even more annoyed.

"Jack Frost, now _really _isn't the time for you to be nipping at my…ugh, forget it." At this point, I'm just angrily letting words spill out of my mouth, and the person watching me is probably having an even greater laugh hearing me talk. In fact, I can hear that incessant giggling not too far away. They're probably hiding in a bush or something, getting my meltdown on film.

"Nipping at your what?"

My body tenses at finally hearing the person speak, but it isn't a squeaky, prepubescent voice like I'd assumed. The voice is deeper, like that of a young man's, and has a teasing, playful tone to it. I know the voice came from behind me, but I refuse to turn around and look because I know I'll probably try to beat the crap out of him. If it's someone my age, they really should know better, shouldn't they?

"Go ahead, laugh," I huff, crossing my arms across my chest. "I wouldn't have fallen in the first place if it wasn't for you."

The prankster slowly strolls into my vision, a look of wonder on his face. I'm not sure what he's so surprised about, because he's the one who looks so strange. I have to stop my jaw from hanging open at the sight of him.

His skin is pale – the palest I've ever seen. It almost has a silvery tint to it. In fact, a lot about him is pale. He has silvery-white hair, a color almost identical to the layers of snow that coat the earth around us. He's barefoot, wearing a dark blue hoodie that's shoulders are coated in what appears to be a web of frost. In his hand he holds that same, hooked staff, my hat dangling from the end of it.

"You…heard me?" His words come out in an awestruck breath. The way he's looking at me, it's like he's never seen another human being before.

I quickly recover from the almost magical look of him and scowl. I pull myself to my feet, brushing off snow from my coat.

"Of course I did!" I tell him angrily. "In fact, I also heard your constant snickering while you were throwing snowballs at me and stealing my hat. Which I want _back_, by the way!" I lunge forward to grab it off of his strange staff, but he's faster than me and holds it high out of my reach, using the several inches he has on me as an advantage. While I continue to struggle and leap up at him, he holds it away from me and continues to give me that amazed look.

"I can't believe…you can _see _me?" He leans in closer to my face, using his free hand to poke me right in the forehead.

"Stop that!" I slap his hand away, but he just does it again, moving on to poke my nose, my cheek, my lips–

"I said _stop." _I step away, giving him a wary look. What is this guy's problem?

He complies, but now his look of wonder has grown. I find myself staring back at him, captivated by those strange eyes of his. They're the deepest, iciest blue I've ever seen, like staring into the depths of the Arctic Ocean. His lips break into a smile, and I absently note that it's the most dazzling smile I've ever – gah! No. Focus. This guy is a jerk. He just threw snowballs at me! Now isn't the time to be getting all hormonal.

"You really can see me!" he exclaims happily, and now he's full-on grinning this big, idiotic grin. At least, that's what I have to tell myself it is, because I'll otherwise just be standing here lost in that smile like the moronic teenage girl that I am.

"Yes, I can," I say impatiently. I give a very pointed look to his weird walking stick. "Now, can I please have my hat back?"

"How old are you?" he asks, completely ignoring my request. He closes the space between us and grips my arm excitedly.

"18," I reply, probably against my better judgment. For all I know, this guy is some kind of predator who…uh, I don't know. Throws snowballs at unsuspecting girls and steals their hats. Sure.

He doesn't say anything, but his smile grows. He lets out an almost giddy laugh and steps away, doing a series of leaps and twirls with his staff. I watch the whole spectacle with an amazed look on my face. Is this guy for real? What is even happening right now?

"What are you doing?" I ask helplessly. At this point, I'm struggling just to keep up with the guy. "Why the hell were you throwing snowballs at me, huh?"

He stops in his…dancing? Whatever he's doing, he stops and rushes back over to me. His hand gently grips the side of my face as he stares down in amazement. I shiver, realizing his hand is freezing cold. That's another thing – what is he doing out in this weather in a hoodie and no shoes on?

"I was just having a bit of fun. I didn't think you could actually see me! So, you know who I am, then. Right?"

I give him a blank look. "No. Please, enlighten me, mysterious prankster."

He looks surprised for a moment, but this look soon gives way to a mischievous grin and he raises an eyebrow at me. "Are you sure you don't know? You were making some pretty serious accusations against me a few moments ago." To emphasize his point, I guess, he taps me in the butt with the bottom part of his staff.

"H-Hey! What are you doing?!" I yelp. My face turns a deep shade of red.

He chuckles, watching my expression with a deep amusement while he waits for me to grasp his words. After several moments of staring, I finally clue in to his words and I look at him like he has two heads.

"J-Jack Frost?" I'm still blushing, but I manage to bring my eyes up to meet his, which are filled with playful mischief. "What are you trying to pull? You're crazy!"

"Am I?" He leans in close to my face and rests a hand against the sleeve of my coat. I start to protest, but stop when I see the tendrils of frost begin snaking up my arm. My eyes remain locked to the sight in complete shock, but I'm absently aware of the fact that his eyes remain on my face, watching my reaction with an amused smile.

"W-What…" I trail into silence, unable to even voice what I'm seeing. This guy has to be crazy. He _has _to be. But…but how is he creating frost from nothing on my sleeve like that? Why does the name explain his strange appearance, and the chill I feel from his touch?

I glance up at him, jumping when I realize how close he's gotten.

He laughs loudly. "Ha! Do you believe me _now, _Mia?"

I jump again, my breath catching in my throat. I tear my arm away from him, now feeling a sense of fear deep in my gut.

"W-What? How do you know my name?"

He isn't put off by my fear. After slowly approaching me again, his hand gently regains its spot on my cheek. He tilts my head up to look at him.

"Calm down. We're old friends at this point! Why do you think you get so cold during the winter?"

I gape up at him. For a moment, I decide to suspend disbelief and just pretend I actually believe he's "Jack Frost". After all, the truth of the matter is I probably actually cracked my head on the ice when I fell, and now I'm just having a weird dream.

"That…that was _you?" _I think of all the winter outings I've suffered in the past. No matter who I was with, I _always _seemed to be the one most bothered by the cold, no matter how much I bundled up. If what he's saying is true, then that means it was because he was always hanging around me.

He winks. "Sure was. It's fun watching you get all worked up. I hope there are no hard feelings."

"Are you kidding me?!" I fume, letting my anger get the better of me. I step away from his hand and point an accusing finger at him. "You mean to tell me this whole time, the reason I've always been so sensitive to the cold is because you–!" I cut off, remembering my mom's annoying jokes once more. I duck my head as the blush creeps back into my cheeks.

"Hm?" Naturally, my blush doesn't go unnoticed. The grin doesn't leave his face as he attempts to get a better look at it. "What's wrong?"

"N-Nothing," I say, but it comes out muffled as I'm now attempting to shield my face from him with my scarf. Stupid Mom. Not to mention stupid _Jamie _for always going along with her jokes like he knows for a fact they're true. At the moment all I want is to retrieve my hat and head home before I embarrass myself further. "A-Anyway, I don't appreciate it. Why me?"

He shrugs, kicking his bare foot at a pile of snow. "You always loved winter when you were younger. Whenever I would initiate a snow war, or grace you all with a snow day, you were always the most excited. I guess that caught my attention, and I just stuck around because of how funny it was when you got mad." He speaks with a wistful tone, and it makes me feel almost guilty. He probably has all of these fond memories of messing with me, and this is the first time I've ever even seen him.

"Well now I can't _stand_ winter," I inform him accusingly. I'm not about to get all sentimental over someone I don't even know. "It's so cold, all the time! What is it you do to make me so cold?"

He flinches a bit at my angry tone, but my question causes the playful smirk to reappear on his lips. "Not much really. Just stuff like this –" He almost seems to disappear in a cloud of ice before reappearing behind me and blowing on my neck. His breath is freezing and sends a huge shiver down my spine.

I jump at the sudden feeling, my feet once again losing purchase on the icy ground. Fortunately, Jack is standing right behind me this time, and he wraps an arm around my waist before I can go tumbling to the ground.

"See?" he whispers in my ear, his breath cold on my neck. "I would never let anything bad happen to you. It's all in good fun."

I focus my gaze on a random spot on the ground. His hand still hasn't left my waist, and even through my jacket I can feel the cold seeping from his fingers. Still, for some odd reason, it isn't bothering me as much as it normally would. Whether it's the embarrassment or the shock over meeting Jack freaking Frost keeping me warm, I feel warmer than usual all the same.

"I could never actually touch you like this before," he says a bit awkwardly. "It's a bit weird to finally be able to. I guess those little breezes and chills were my way of letting you know I was there." He starts to wrap his other arm around me in a sort of embrace and I think my lungs stop working right about then.

I clear my throat and step away from him. "S-So what, you're saying you've tried?"

He laughs at my awkwardness, suddenly jumping down in front of me. I stumble backwards but, once again, he reaches out to grab my arm and steady me. Once he's sure I'm not going to take a tumble, he then reaches up to my hair and twirls a brown curl around his fingers.

"You've got such pretty hair," he casually comments. "Can you really blame me for trying?"

I scowl in an attempt to cover up the blush that's taken permanent residence on my face. "Do you mind? I'm not a toy."

"Of course not," he laughs, letting the hair drop. For a few seconds, he just looks at me with a thoughtful smile on his face. "You're just as irritable as I imagined you'd be. It's funny."

"Can you blame me?" I mutter, rolling my eyes at him. "First you throw snowballs at me and make me late for the grocery store, and then you tell me it's actually you whose been tormenting me all these years."

He ignores pretty much everything I said, his eyes suddenly widening. He almost looks…worried.

"The grocery store?"

I nod. "Yep. I was on the way to get something to eat, and then you decided to throw a couple of snowballs at me and now here we are." I spread my arms wide out. "It's probably closed by now, actually, so thanks."

"I'm sorry," he says, and it's the most genuine apology I've ever heard. "Let me make it up to you?"

"And how are you going to do that?" I scoff, but secretly I feel bad because he does really seem sorry.

He grins, and I immediately feel uneasy. I really don't trust that devilish smile of his. He's definitely planning something he knows I'm not going to like.

Before I have a chance to say so, he loops his arm around my waist and suddenly takes off into the air, letting out an excited holler as he does.

"What the hell?!" I shriek, clinging to him for dear life. I squeeze my eyes shut and bury my face into his chest. "Jack, put me _down!"_

"Just relax!" he shouts. His grip on me tightens. "I'm taking you to get some food! You're hungry, right?"

"Are you crazy?! We're _flying!" _I must have been in some kind of state of shock before, because now the reality of the situation is sinking in. The frost up my arm was one thing, but this is completely impossible! I'm flying through the air right now with _Jack Frost._ The Spirit of Winter, Bringer of Snow – not only that, but I just found out that he's pretty much been around my _whole life _and is the reason why I'm always so cold. It's because he's always hanging around me, breathing down my neck and chilling my skin.

And now he's doing something as mundane as taking me to get food. I can't believe this is actually happening right now.

I lose track of the minutes, refusing to look down from such a height. Jack continues to try and coax me out of hiding, giving me encouraging squeezes on my waist. But I'm not falling for it. No sir, there's no way I'm gonna look to see just how high up we are.

Eventually, I feel his breath rustle my hair as he lets out a sigh. Moments after, I feel my feet touch solid ground, but I'm not about to open my eyes yet. It could easily be a trick.

"You can let go now," he assures me. "We've landed."

Hesitantly, I detach myself from him and force my eyes open. We're standing outside a convenience store, and Jack is giving me an apologetic look.

"It might not be real food, but hey. Better than nothing, right?"

I just stare at him for a minute. Okay, now I feel a bit bad for being so mean to him. He obviously enjoys my company; otherwise he wouldn't hang around so much. Now he's just trying to make up for disturbing my walk. I guess I can spare being a little bit nice to him, despite how slightly freaked out I am.

Keeping that in mind, I give him a small smile. "T-Thanks, Jack. I'll be right out."

His eyes light up, fixed on my smile. "Right. I'll be waiting."

I head into the store and buy a large bag of Doritos and a bottle of root beer. It might not be "real food", but it's enough to keep me full until tomorrow. I head back outside to find Jack leaning against the store window. A few people are walking past, but none of them acknowledge his presence. It's like…he's invisible to them.

"Why can't they see you?" I ask him quietly, motioning to the people around us.

"Because they don't believe in me," he replies on almost a sad note. I frown as I watch his eyes linger on the passing group for a few more seconds before looking back up at me. He smiles once more. "Ready to go?"

I don't say anything. I simply nod and, making sure I'm holding my bag securely, allow him to wrap his arm around me once more. When we take to the sky this time, I keep my eyes open. Seeing that brief moment of sadness in him seems to have stirred up some emotion in me, and I feel that I can trust him more easily this time around. After all, he _did_ deliver me safely to the store.

I gaze out in wonder over the town. We're so high up! At this height, all of the streetlights look like fireflies scattered across the landscape. I feel like I'm looking at a second sky beneath me, and the sight of it leaves me speechless.

Jack grins down at me. "See? I told you it wasn't so bad,"

"It's…beautiful…" I breathe. I look up at him excitedly, letting out a gasp as I see the _real _sky – crisp, clear and cloudless. The moon shines over us, almost as if it's watching. "Wow!"

His expression softens. "There. You look much better with a smile."

"Oh, come on," I mutter, ducking my head to hide that stupid blush of mine.

"Spoke too soon." He starts laughing, and I can feel it rumbling in his chest.

After a few more minutes we land back in the park. I try to establish myself on the solid ground immediately, but of course this works out about as well as I'd expected – I immediately slip on the ice. Jack abandons his staff, using one arm to snake around my waste and keep me from reaching the ground and the other to safely set my bag of food down.

"T-Thanks…" I manage, cursing my stupidity. This is what, the third time he's had to catch me from falling?

"Be more careful," he teases, using his now free arm to wrap that one around me too. He then pulls me closer to him so I'm not awkwardly bent over backwards, but now I'm left with my face buried in his chest and oh God he smells like pine trees and winter and –

I cut off my inner ramblings before they become too incoherent. I attempt to crane my head back to get a good look at him. He was resting his chin on the top of my head, looking thoughtful, but now offers me a grin once he sees me looking up with what's probably an uncomfortable expression.

"Sorry," he laughs. "Is this weird? It's probably weird."

I'm unable to do anything more than shake my head.

Still, he releases me and takes a step back. He crouches to the ground to retrieve his staff, the hooked end of which my toque still rests upon. As I stare at the strange staff, a million questions run through my mind, none of which I've been able to form into words. I kind of just accepted this all as a crazy dream, but I realize now that this is real. I'm standing here with Jack freaking Frost, and all I can do is continue to get embarrassed. So, I muster up the courage to ask him the one, single most important question.

"Jack," I whisper, lifting my eyes to meet his. "What are you?"

He chuckles. "I'm the Spirit of Winter. A Guardian. I thought you'd have figured that out by now."

"Well…what else can you do?"

He seems happy my tone's taken a curious turn. He waves his staff in the air and, despite there not being a cloud in the sky, it begins to snow. I gaze around in wonder. It's not just regular snow – Jack knows that wouldn't impress me. No, this is different. It's like someone shattered a diamond above us and it's now raining down on us, clinging briefly to my jacket before melting away to nothing.

"It's really you," I whisper again, fighting back a smile. One of the crystals falls on my nose, and as soon as it melts I'm filled with an inexplicable sense of glee.

He's just standing there, smiling at me. "The one and only. Hey, what are you doing?"

This last part is added because I'm now crouched down, gathering the snow at my feet into a ball. Before the smile can even drop from Jack's lips it becomes hidden from sight as I launch the snowball and it explodes against his face.

"Did you just –?!" He wipes the snow from his face and sends me a look of mock anger. However, there's no hiding the smirk tugging at his lips.

I giggle. "Maybe."

His eyes grow mischievous and he blows a stream of icy air into his hand. It quickly solidifies into a ball and he aims it at me with lightning speed. I fall to the ground in an attempt to avoid it and instantly attempt to scrape together another snowball before he reaches me, because he's now calmly walking towards me with a dangerous look in his eye.

"Stay back!" I jump to my feet and toss the snowball.

He easily avoids it and closes the distance between us with lightning speed to tackle me into the snow bank. I let out a laughter-filled scream and attempt to fight him off, but he's surprisingly strong and succeeds in pinning me down and doing the unthinkable – dumping a handful of snow down the front of my shirt.

I fall still, my mouth hanging open in shock at what he just did. The snow clings to my bare skin, and while I know it's just snow, all I can think of is his frigid hands caressing the side of my face and I flush.

He freezes (no pun intended) and I watch his eyes grow wide. He sits on my stomach, looking down at me with a horrified expression. Still, I can see the corners of his lips twitch as he tries his hardest not to laugh.

"That was an accident," he manages, but his voice is trembling with suppressed laughter. "I'm…uh…sorry?"

I give him a fierce glare before throwing him off of me. He tries to scramble away but I jump on his back and, yanking back the collar of his hoodie, drop a handful of snow down his back. I wait for him to squeal like a pig and start dancing around like I would have done, but that's when I realize…

"I'm the Spirit of Winter," he says triumphantly, breaking into laughter. "That doesn't really bother me too much."

"Oh…right." Deflated, I let myself drop from his back and fall into the snow behind him. I ignore the feeling of snow soaking through my jacket and freezing my back and just stare up at the sky. The moon continues to shine down on us like some kind of watchful guardian.

Jack flops down beside me and follows my gaze. I hear him release a contented sigh.

"Are there others like you?" I ask quietly.

He doesn't question my sudden shift in mood. "Sure. Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy…" He trails off and he looks over at me expectantly.

Naturally, I whip my head over and gape at him, which draws a laugh out of him. "Seriously?! Wow…" I look back up at the sky, attempting to wrap my head around all of this. All of these mythical people that only children believe in…I can't believe they're all real. Now I decide that I _must _be dreaming, because this is all so surreal.

But then I can feel Jack's gaze still on me, wearing that same amused smile. I caution a glance over at him and meet his eyes. They travel across my face, and while the sudden scrutiny makes my stomach flutter, I can't force myself to look away. He lifts a hand to gently trail his fingers across my cheek and I watch as that same look of wonder seeps back into his eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask, feeling extremely self-conscious. No guy has ever looked at me that way before, let alone a freaking Winter Spirit. I should be the one giving him fascinated looks. He's the one who just flew me through the air and made snow from nothing.

"Because you can finally look back," he replies with a smile. "I don't know why, but you can. My hand doesn't just pass right through you anymore." His hand moves to grip my neck and his fingers trail through my hair. There's that wistful tone again.

Okay, this is getting really embarrassing. I abruptly sit up and roll of the bank onto the path. I get to my feet, making sure not to fall this time around.

"I, uh, should probably get home," I say, awkwardly clearing my throat. "My, um…my cat's probably worried."

He isn't offended I suddenly pulled away. In fact, he looks pretty pleased at the color resurfacing on my cheeks. He jumps in the air, landing gracefully in front of me. He then does a dramatic bow.

"I apologize for the inconvenience, ma'am."

I roll my eyes. "It's quite alright."

He straightens, grinning at me. "Excellent. Now then, you really should get home to your cat."

I nod, but find myself unable to say anything else. What do I say? "Goodbye"? This could easily be our one and only meeting. It was probably a fluke that I saw him in the first place, so what if I never see him again? Do I even _want _to see him again? My mind is such a tumbling mess of thoughts at the moment that I'm just standing there like an idiot.

"Well…bye," I say brilliantly. I turn and begin to walk away, but there's this hollow feeling in my gut. It's not like he'll care that I'm going home. I don't even really know him, plus he's the Spirit of Winter. He probably has more important things to do than hang out with some girl. Although, he _has_ been hanging around me for quite a while without my knowledge, so maybe he doesn't…gah, why do I even care? This idiot is the reason I'm so miserable for a quarter of the year. Good riddance! Maybe this will teach him a lesson!

"One more thing before you go."

His voice stops me. I don't want to turn around, but I do anyway. I feel I owe him that much. Except when I _do _turn around, I find he's nowhere to be seen. Is this another prank? Am I about to get snow dumped down my shirt again?

"Jack…?" I call out hesitantly.

Frowning, I turn back around, only to be met by a cold pair of lips pressing against mine.

"J-Jack!" I exclaim against his lips. I'm completely in shock at the moment, unable to even muster the strength to push him away.

I feel his lips pull into a grin. His staff falls to the ground with a clatter as wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close to him. His lips are so cold they almost seem to burn me, bringing feeling back to lips that had long since turned numb in the winter air. Once again I'm breathing in his scent of pine needles and winter air, and with his frigid breath comes a pleasant, minty taste. I gasp at the feeling of his tongue against mine as it's so cold, so pleasantly different from anything I've experienced before.

The kiss dissolves into smaller, fleeting ones, and it feels like snowflakes melting against my lips. As much as I want to feel irritated with him at the moment, it's hard to hold on to that feeling when this pretty much tops any kiss I've ever had.

Just when I think I'm about to pass out, he pulls away. His scorching blue eyes stare down at me, flickering with mischief.

I stare back, trying to use my mouth for something useful like forming words, but it just continues to hang open and all that come out are these dumb, incoherent sounds.

"Your mother was right," he whispers with a playful smirk.

If the kiss wasn't enough to catch me off guard, this comment does the trick. My eyes grow even wider and before I can even think of a reply he's suddenly gone. I stare at the empty space that used to be him, trying to gather my thoughts.

Jack Frost just kissed me. He just grabbed me by the waist and kissed me and then…and then he _vanished. _I run a hand through my hair and try to steady my breathing. Who the hell does that? Just kisses a girl and then disappears into thin air? I mean, most guys aren't physically capable of it, but still!

"So that's your last prank, huh?" I finally manage to say, although there's obviously no one around to hear it. "Kiss me and then leave? You probably think that's pretty funny, huh?"

A cold gust of wind suddenly whips at my face. I hold a hand against the top of my head to keep my hat from flying off, and that's when I realize it.

I'm not wearing a hat. Jack never gave it back to me.

A ghostly laugh echoes through the deserted park and I feel my blood begin to boil. So I guess it _wasn't _his last prank. That jerk actually stole my hat!

"Grr, Jack! You idiot!" I exclaim angrily, but there's no response. Honestly, I don't think I expected one anyway. This is probably all a part of the joke, and he's nearby, unseen and watching me get angry with glee. Like he's done for a long time, I now know.

I sigh and retrieve the bag I dropped when Jack kissed me. So much for never seeing him again. Something tells me this isn't the last I've seen of Jack Frost, and as much as I want to tell myself this fact deeply annoys me, there's a tiny flutter of excitement deep in my gut that's fighting for recognition.

I mentally curb stomp that excitement down and start on my way home.

* * *

**Sooo there! As I said, I left it open to continue, so I very well might.**

**Thanks for reading! Feel free to review and let me know what you think! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Sorry this took so long to get out. It got snagged at a couple parts and I've been busy with rewrites for my other story an university stuff. Anyway, it's not quite as fluffy as the first chapter was - we're actually getting a bit of plot here :o**

**That being said, please enjoy! :)**

* * *

_Brrrzt. Brrrzt._

I groan and shove my head under the pillow. My phone's been going off with texts and phone calls for the past hour, almost all of them a combination of Jamie and Summer and Patrick. As I continue to bury my head into an avalanche of pillows and blankets, I'm not left with an unfamiliar feeling at their incessant bothering of my phone. Actually, this is a pretty common occurrence now that it's winter break. Any time they want me to go out and "enjoy the outdoors" with them, they're usually pretty persistent until I give in.

That's the case today. The first text was from Jamie, asking if I wanted to go skating with the guys. I promptly ignored him, but he'd pretty much expected that and gotten Summer and Patrick on the case to launch a three-way assault on my cell phone.

As Demi Lovato blasts through my room yet again, I sigh irritably and lift the pillow from my face to glance at the clock. It's already 1:12. I slept past noon for the third day in a row.

To be honest, I haven't left the house since that night with...well, you know. When I'd awoken the next morning, I had myself firmly convinced that it had been a dream. However, the absence of my hat is a firm reminder that it did in fact happen. Still, I haven't made an attempt to see him. I can buy a new hat; talking to him again is probably just going to succeed in pissing me off again, and I _definitely _do not want to deal with his stupid...flirting, if that's even what you'd call it. Thankfully, he hasn't made any surprise visits to my apartment

...granted, the only time I've left my apartment was for a quick trip to the grocery store. Other than that, I've been sitting here in my apartment, watching reruns of the Walking Dead and stumbling across government conspiracies on my laptop – anything to keep me busy.

Finally, I can't ignore my phone any longer; I now officially hate the song "Heart Attack" from how many times I've had to hear it today. I cut Demi's voice off mid-sentence to hit the answer button.

"Hello?"

"It's about time you answered!" The voice is boyish and extremely familiar – definitely Jamie.

"Well you guys didn't have to all gang up on me," I mumble. I run a hand through my hair and yawn.

"You'd sleep all day otherwise," he reasons. There's a pause. "Mia, you realize you haven't really left the apartment in like three days, right? Is everything okay?"

I have a brief urge to tell Jamie what happened that night. He'd probably get a kick out of it, him and all of his stupid Jack Frost jokes. I quickly push it away though. That would mean I'd have to go into detail on what he did, as well as actually try and explain how I feel about the whole thing, which is something I don't even think I've figured out myself yet.

"Everything's fine," I say evenly. "Perfect, in fact, as long as I'm bundled up in my cozy apartment."

I can practically hear his eyes roll through the phone. "As nice as that sounds, you're coming out with us tonight. We're all going skating at the park!"

_The park..._

"N-No thanks," I say, gulping down the sudden tightness in my throat. "I'd rather not freeze my ass off with you idiots." Especially considering it's still sore from falling on it...

"You're coming," he says firmly, and I know there's nothing I can do about it. "Me and Summer will stop by and pick you up on the way there."

"Is Pat coming?"

A pause. "Yes. He's bringing a friend, actually. Someone who wants to see you."

"Me?" I blink in confusion, tightening my grip on the phone. "Who is it?"

"You'll see," he says evilly. "See you at 7." Then he hangs up.

I sigh and drop the phone. Great, not only do I have to go back to that damn park again, but now Pat and Jamie are planning something that's probably going to embarrass me. Who'd want to see me? I don't know any of Pat's college friends. Is it someone we graduated with who's also home from winter break? I don't like this at all.

Regardless, I force myself to my feet and head to the shower.

* * *

Later that night, I walk down the street with Jamie and Summer. As soon as I saw Summer, I realized I shouldn't have even tried to look presentable, because she makes anyone look inadequate in comparison. Her red hair falls down her back in perfect waves, and the cold gives her round face a perfect flush that practically causes her skin to glow. She's dressed in a stylish white coat over patterned jeans and cute suede boots.

I sigh and glance down at myself. I allowed Jamie and Summer to convince me out of wearing 25 layers of clothing, so at least that's a start. I'm still just wearing jeans and a hoodie with my thick jacket and knee-highs, though. My hair, which I attempted to curl further for extra warmth, does little to shield my freezing face and ears.

Dammit, Jack. Did you really have to steal my only hat?

"You look cold," Jamie teases, kicking snow at me.

"Stop!" I say irritably. I quickly move across to put Summer between us. "I...I lost my hat."

Summer wisely pats my arm. "That's probably for the best, Mia. That thing has seen better days."

I roll my eyes at the two of them. "Whatever. So who's this mystery guest, anyway?"

Summer and Jamie share a conspiratorial look, but neither of them say anything.

"Oh, come _on_ guys!" I practically stop in the middle of the sidewalk to give them a desperate look. "You know I don't like surprises like this. You're not trying to embarrass me, are you?"

"Of course not," says Jamie, but he doesn't even try to hide his smile.

"Ugh..."

We continue on until we reach the park. Much like three nights ago, the whole park is lit up with Christmas lights and streetlamps. The skating rink is in operation tonight, so the park isn't deserted like last time. Many people mill about, some drinking hot chocolate they bought from the vendor and some building snowmen along the banks. The sound of music can be heard from the direction of the rink.

Patrick waits for us at our usual bench. On one side of him sits three pairs of skates, one for each of us. His own are in his hands. On the other side of him...oh, God no.

I immediately stop, digging my heels into the snow-packed path.

Jamie turns, a knowing smile on his face. "What's wrong, Mia?"

"That's Darcy Copeland," I hiss at him, feeling the blood rush to my face. "You guys seriously invited him? Is this some kind of joke?"

Summer giggles, waving to get Pat's attention. He glances up at us through his mess of brown curls and grins. Beside him, Darcy flashes his teeth and waves.

Forget Clark Kent. Darcy Copeland, I tell you, is Superman's alter ego. His black, wavy hair is perfectly styled, not a single strand obscuring his blue eyes. His teeth are white and perfect, and I swear even his dimples have dimples. He is hands down the hottest guy in our graduating class, and my friends _know_ I've always had the hugest crush on him.

So that's why they're torturing me by inviting him here. They _do _want to embarrass me.

I reluctantly allow Jamie and Summer to drag me over there.

"Hey, Mia," Darcy greets me casually. "It's good to see you again!"

Stupid blush, _not now__. _"Uh, hey Darcy. It's been a while, huh? You look good." I mentally slap myself immediately after the words leave my mouth.

He laughs and scratches the back of his head. "Look who's talking, Mia."

I blink. Huh? Did he just...?

"Oh, there's Mindy," Summer points out. She motions to some random black-haired girl skating by. The girl stops and waves back.

"Jamie!" she calls.

I glance at Jamie. He already has his skates tied, and is soon headed to the rink to join her. They're gone before I can even say anything.

"We should get going, huh Pat?" Summer suddenly says. To my surprise, she already has her skates on as well. What is this, a speed-lacing competition?

"W-Where are you going?" I ask her, suddenly feeling really nervous.

She winks. "Me and Pat have to talk about something. Darcy, keep her company for me, will you?" She bats her long eyelashes at him, working her magic.

"Absolutely," he replies.

With that, my only allies skate off, leaving me alone and utterly betrayed. Those jerks completely planned this. Never in my life have I been alone with Darcy, and they just decide to throw it on me with no warning? Ugh, they are so going to get it.

Darcy smiles at me. "Need some help with your skates?"

I blush. I really don't, but the thought of it is so tempting that I just blurt out, "Uh, yeah! Sure."

I sit on the bench and unzip my boots, tucking them neatly behind the bench. Then I grab my skates and tug them on my feet. As soon as I'm done with one, Darcy kneels down and takes my foot in his hand. Resting it on his lap, he begins lacing it up. He does the same with the other one and then straightens, offering me his hand.

I take it and rise unsteadily to my feet. "T-Thanks."

We make our way over to the ice, myself almost tripping several times. Out of all the activities, it had to be the one I'm worst at. I find myself cursing my stupid friends all over again.

We begin gliding across the ice, silently at first. I haven't skated since last winter, so my legs are a bit wobbly on the slippery surface at first. Darcy's hand hovers over my arm in case I fall.

"So...what have you been doing?" I ask in an attempt at conversation.

"I'm studying to be a doctor," he replies happily. Then he turns his big blue eyes on me curiously. "How about you?"

I stare into his eyes for a minute. It might just be my imagination, but I remember his eyes being so much bluer. I don't feel the need to melt into a puddle upon looking at them right now, which is weird. They have always been my favorite part about him, and now...they're just sort of average.

A little nagging thought tells me it's because I've seen Jack's eyes and nothing can ever compare to them. I didn't feel like I was melting from his eyes – I felt like I was drowning.

...Why am I thinking about him anyway? I shove him from my mind and refocus my mind onto the actual question.

"Journalism," I tell him sheepishly. The answer sounds so unimpressive compared to his.

His eyes light up. "Really? Good for you! I remember how much you always loved to write in high school."

"Y-You do?" That's weird. I didn't think he'd ever noticed me much in high school. We shared a lot of mutual friends, but I was never close to him like I am with Jamie, Summer and Pat.

His cheeks redden slightly. "Uh, yeah. I always thought it was pretty cool, actually."

Okay, now I have to be dreaming. There's no way my high school crush is flirting with me right now. This is even more unbelievable than meeting the Spirit of Winter.

I'm in such a stun from what he said that I bump right into the person in front of me and go sprawling on the ice. My ankle bends beneath me, twisting painfully. Ugh, owwwwww. Why do I have to be such a clumsy, embarrassing person? I _hate_ winter!

"Are you okay?" Darcy's eyes widen and he quickly crouches down to help me to my feet.

"Y-Yes," I say, but as soon as I attempt to put weight on my ankle, a sharp pain jolts up through my leg and I whimper, nearly falling again. "Ah, shit. Nope."

He sighs, looking worried. "C'mon, let's go sit down." And then he wraps one arm around my waist to support me across the ice. As nerve-wracking as it is, I drape my arm across his shoulders for extra support. We awkwardly make our way over to a secluded bench and I drop down.

"Let's see." He kneels in front of me and begins unlacing my skate.

"Y-You really don't have to–"

"I don't mind," he says quietly. He gently tugs the skate off my foot and I try not to wince too badly. He pulls my sock down and rolls up my pant leg. It's only been about ten minutes since the fall, but my damn ankle is starting to swell a bit already. The skin is completely red.

"I'm such an idiot," I groan, burying my face in my hands. "It's broken, isn't it?"

He chuckles softly. "No, it's just a sprain, I think. You still probably shouldn't put too much pressure on it." He stands, stretching out his arms. "I'll go get your boots, okay?"

I nod quickly, still refusing to look at him. "Okay."

He heads back onto the rink and skates his way through the mass of people.

"You really are clumsy, huh?"

That voice...I don't turn around. I can't. Maybe if I just ignore him he'll go away. I'll pretend I can't hear him. Just don't respond.

But then he steps in front of me, blocking my view of the rink with his grinning face. At the same time, I remember his joy at me being finally able to see him, and I decide that I could never actually be so heartless. I meet his eyes, my breath catching in my throat. No wonder Darcy's eyes seem dull in comparison. Jack's eyes are just as deep and fantastically blue as the first time I met him.

One thing is certain now. That night definitely wasn't a dream. Jack Frost is real, and he's leaning in my face with a silly grin. Although his staff is with him, I notice a distinct absence of my hat.

"Go ahead, laugh," I say, scowling at him. "You just love seeing me miserable, huh?"

He smirks and sits down next to me on the bench. "Of course not. Although, it is pretty hilarious when you scowl like that. It's not the slightest bit intimidating, I hope you know."

That doesn't stop me from doing it some more. I reach down to unlace my other skate and grumpily yank it off.

"So who's the lucky guy?" he asks. He nods his head towards Darcy, who's just begun to make his way back across the ice.

Now it's my turn to smirk. "What's wrong, Jack? Jealous?"

He keeps his easy smile, but it now looks a bit forced. "Of course not."

"He's someone I went to high school with," I explain, keeping my lip movements to a minimum. To any one else, it'll just look like I'm talking to myself. Thankfully this bench is hard to see from the rink. "If you've been around as long as you say, you'd probably recognize him."

"Oh, it's just that Darcy guy, huh?" Any jealous undertones drop from his tone and now he just looks amused. "I didn't think you were able to form coherent sentences around him."

"I...shut up." He has a point, there. Apparently he does remember him after all.

"Mia!" Darcy calls when he reaches the edge of the rink. He plods through the snow to stop in front of me. He holds my boots in his hand, but I notice he's not wearing skates anymore. "I just got a text from my little brother. He locked himself out of the house again; I have to go home to let him in." He rolls his eyes, visibly annoyed.

I do my best to mask my disappointment. "O-Oh. That's fine."

He hands me my boots and takes my skates from me. "Jamie said he'd help you get home in a little bit. I...I'm really sorry I couldn't stay longer." He scratches the back of his head and stares at the ground.

I smile at him. "Hey, it's okay. I had fun."

"Heh, I somehow doubt that," he says with a laugh, looking pointedly at my foot. "But, thanks. I'll make it up to you, I swear." He pauses, looking hesitant. He acts like he's debating something for a moment, but then a look of resolve forms on his face and he bends down to lightly kiss my cheek.

"I'll uh, talk to you later," he mumbles, ducking his head and heading back across the rink.

I stare after him in stun, pressing my hand to my cheek. Did...did that really just happen? A stupid smile pulls at my lips. This night has not gone as expected at all. It feels like a dream; I'm almost tempted to pinch myself. I spent years fawning over his guy like an idiot, and not once did I ever think I'd even crossed his mind.

And then I remember Jack's still sitting there. I caution a glance over at him – he's looking off into the direction Darcy left with a thoughtful look on his face. His jaw is set, his body stiff. Is he angry? He doesn't really have a right to be. I didn't kiss Jack because I wanted to – he sort of just stole it from me. Does he think he has some sort of dibs on me? That's just stupid.

Still, I feel bad.

"Jack," I begin, but I stop, unsure of what I can even say. It's not like I have to justify myself to him.

He raises an eyebrow at me. "What's wrong? You were waiting for that, right?" When I don't respond and just stare at a random spot on the ground, he awkwardly taps his knee. "Uh, you know, I should probably just go. It's awkward, me being here."

He stands, clearing his throat, and begins to walk away. Something stirs inside of me. If he leaves now, will he come back? I mean, it's not like I care or anything, but I still have so many unanswered questions, and it's because of that that something forces me to jump to my feet.

"Jack, wai – ahhh!" I cut off into a scream as the pain sears through my ankle. I forgot it's injured, and the pain pushes me back onto the bench. I have to force back tears of pain, but it's unsuccessful for the most part. "Shitshitshit owwwwww!"

He immediately whirls back around, his eyes wide. His face softens and he's at my side in an instant, putting a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?" I snap, but all of the push from my voice is gone and it just sounds like I'm crying. I sniff angrily and mutter, "Idiot."

"Here, let me see." He shakes his head with that same amused, condescending look I'm beginning to become familiar with and reaches down for my foot.

"No don't," I say quickly, jerking away from him. Even that little movement causes my foot to throb. I can't imagine him lifting it up onto the bench.

"Mia." He raises an eyebrow at me. "You really should put some ice on that, you know."

I open my mouth to argue but stop when I realize why he's giving me that smug little grin. "Let me guess...

He wiggles his fingers. "You know, you _are _talking to the Spirit of Winter right now."

That stupid smirk on his face really makes me want to refuse just to spite him. However, I think about how soothing his cold fingers will feel perfectly curled around my ankle, and I know that he's right.

"Fine," I finally grumble. I don't meet his eyes as I carefully lift my leg and swing it around to rest in his lap. "But only because it hurts so freaking bad."

He smiles, but doesn't say anything else. His slender fingers gently wrap around my ankle and the relief is immediate. I sigh deeply and shut my eyes. That's the only satisfaction I'm going to give him, though, because he'll probably never let me live it down.

"Does that feel better?"

I nod without opening my eyes.

"You know, maybe we should get you home."

I open one eye. "I can't just leave. Jamie's supposed to help me get home."

"Don't worry about Jamie." He keeps his attention focused on my ankle, trailing his fingers lightly against my skin.

"Hmph." I laugh humorlessly, closing my eyes once more. "Right. You're going to go have a talk with him, are you?"

His fingers pause. "Look, would you rather stay here in the miserable cold, or would you rather be home in your nice, warm bed?"

The thought of it sparks longing in my heart. That _does _sound nice...

"I'll wrap your ankle for you," he goes on, leaning in closer. He dances his fingers lightly upon my leg. "Make you a nice, steaming cup of hot chocolate..."

I nod slowly. My mouth waters; I can practically taste it already.

"With marshmallows?" I murmur hopefully.

"As many as you want," he agrees. At this point, he's skillfully leaned close enough to speak right into my ear, and now his voice is deep and downright seductive. "How about it?"

I really should wait for Jamie, but his offer is seriously tempting. He _has_ to know my weakness for chocolate, otherwise he wouldn't be treating it like he's offering something completely different. I shouldn't even accept, really. He'll probably just hold it over me.

_But...chocolate, _the addict in me whines.

"Fine," I sigh in defeat. I open my eyes to scowl at him, forgetting how close he is. I instinctively jerk away but that causes my foot to slide off his lap and land on the ground with a harsh thud. A high-pitched whine escapes from my throat. Ow ow _owwww!_

"Come on," he says with a sigh. He stands and carefully scoops me up into his arms like I'm a sniveling two year-old. He manages to gently secure me with one arm and use the other to pick up his staff and my boots. With a final look around to make sure no one is watching, we take to the sky.

* * *

About a half hour later, we arrive back to my apartment. I allow Jack to set me on the couch for the time-being, since I don't plan on going to bed just yet. It's not even 9 yet, and I have a habit of staying up late.

While Jack is busy rummaging through my barren cupboards for something to wrap my foot with, I feel a soft head butt against my hand.

"Hey Muffin!" I say happily. My white cat meows softly and hops up onto my lap.

Jack pauses in the kitchen, holding a worn dish towel. His lips pull into a smile. "Is that your cat?"

"Of course," I reply, and offer him a smirk in return. "I really wasn't lying the other night."

He lifts his hands defensively. "Hey, I wasn't making any accusations." He begins tying the ends of several cloths together. "He's cute."

I turn my gaze back to Muffin, giving him a fond look. I've had him since I was 13, and we've shared a lot of adventures together. When I think about it, Muffin is really the only thing that keeps me calm when I'm freaking out. All I have to do is run my fingers through his soft, snow-colored fur, and stare into his big blue eyes and...

My fingers pause. "Are you joking me?"

Muffin tilts his head and blinks slowly.

"What seems to be the problem?" Jack asks over his shoulder.

I sigh. "Nothing. Nothing at all." Nothing, except for the fact that Muffin is practically Jack Frost in cat form, what with his pure white fur and blue eyes. Honestly, can I ever catch a break?

Jack strolls over to the couch and sits, the weird cloth-rope thing in his hands. I eye it warily.

"What do you call that thing?"

"Heh, this?" He lifts it up and shrugs, giving me an amused look. "You're not exactly well-stocked in this apartment of yours. I'm being resourceful." I watch as he squeezes the cloth slightly and tendrils of frost seep from his fingers and snake through the fabric. He then gently lifts my foot from its spot on the coffee table and takes it in his lap.

I stare at the cloth for a moment. "Right. That magic stuff. I keep forgetting."

This makes him chuckle. He begins wrapping the cloth tightly around my swollen ankle and I do my best to ignore the pain. It's only brief anyway, as the cold he's infused into the makeshift wrap soothes the ache a bit.

Once the wrap is securely in place, he places a few of the throw pillows on the table and props my foot up.

"Thanks," I say with a sigh, leaning my head back.

He smirks. "I suppose your hot chocolate would be next, huh?"

"You promised."

He leaps to his feet and bows in a grand flourish. "Of course, my queen. But, one question. Does Her Majesty have the required ingredients for the delicacy of hot cocoa?"

"Dork." I roll my eyes and motion towards the kitchen. "Of course I do. Hot chocolate is the only thing I'm always in constant supply of."

"At least you have priorities," he says cheerfully before heading over to get to work. Muffin sits attentively on my lap still, watching him go with scrutinizing eyes.

"It's okay, Muffin," I whisper, just loudly enough so I'm sure Jack can hear me. "He's not as annoying as he seems. At least you don't have to deal with the flirting."

Muffin meows in response, and Jack grins over his shoulder at me. Apparently he either knows it's true or just isn't going to dignify it with a response. I'm going to go with the first choice, though.

I briefly consider turning on the TV, but decide against it. While it would be a welcome distraction, there's just no beating the wondrous silence my apartment offers me after coming in from the cold. So, I wait in silence until Jack is finished.

He's soon back over and sitting next to me on the couch, handing me the steaming mug.

I take a long sip, instantly at ease once the rich taste hits my tongue.

"You're welcome," Jack sings, sounding smug.

"I don't remember thanking you."

He plays at punching my ankle, coaxing a laugh out of me.

Muffin uncurls himself from my lap and proceeds to cautiously slink over to Jack. His nose twitches as it hovers just above his skin. When he finally makes contact, a shudder goes through his body and he jerks back. Then he flees, down the hall and into the safe comfort of my closet, no doubt.

"I don't think he likes me," Jack comments.

I shake my head. "You're probably just too cold for him. He hates winter just as much as I do. It's why we're a perfect pair."

Jack leans in closer to me. "You do realize that 'winter' just carried you home, made you a hot drink and tended to your wounds, right?"

"Wounds?" I giggle at the serious term. I understand Jack is trying to flirt again, but the warmth seeping into my body is synonymous with happiness in my opinion, so I don't seem to care that much at the moment. "I was a klutz as always and wrecked my ankle on the ice. I wasn't part of a battle."

"The way you treat leaving your apartment, you'd think you were."

"I have _you_ to thank for that." I take another drink and give him a sidelong glance, fighting to hide my smile. "I think I still have bruises from those snowballs you threw at me. Probably brain damage too."

He laughs loudly, propping his elbow up on the back of the couch behind me and resting his head on his hand. This makes his face quite close to mine, so close I can make out every detail of his annoyingly perfect face. I watch his eyes trail down to my lips, his mouth curve into a fond smile.

"I'm very tempted to kiss you again," he says quietly.

I stare back at him. I hate myself for it, but for a minute I remember how spectacular the first kiss was and begin to lean forward.

"But I won't," he says, instead lightly flicking me in the forehead. "Wouldn't want you to accuse me of stealing it again."

"How considerate of you." I finish off the last of my hot chocolate and set it on the end table beside the couch. I'm feeling warm, happy, and a touch sleepy. I stifle a yawn and lean my head back. Jack lifts his head so he can cradle my head in that hand. His fingers snake through my hair, massaging my scalp.

"I shouldn't be allowing this," I mumble. "But that feels fantastic and I'm too content to argue."

"Sorry. It's just fun to play with your hair. It's a lot softer than I imagined."

I frown. There's that tone again. I was trying not to think about it, but now those nagging questions I've been pushing away are coming to the surface. I still don't know much about this whole Guardian business. Because there isn't just Jack. There's...Santa Claus, and the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy and...well, putting it like that just sounds silly. Why haven't I ever seen any of them? Why have I only just started seeing Jack now? I didn't ask these questions the last time we met because to be honest, it all felt like a dream at the time. I didn't worry about the specifics, because in the morning I would wake up and return to my normal life.

That clearly isn't the case.

"...Jack?"

"Yes?"

"I have questions."

"That's quite specific of you, Mia."

"Well...why now? Why were you invisible all of these years and all of a sudden you're sitting here giving me a head massage like we've known each other for ages? Why–?"

"I don't know the details anymore than you do," he replies with a slight frown. "Has anything changed lately? Anything unusual?"

I crane my neck up to give him a deadpan stare.

He rolls his eyes. "You know what I mean."

I bite my lip as I try to recall anything unusual. Compared to meeting Jack Frost, everything in my life is totally normal.

"Uh...I've been having nightmares a lot," I tell him, and shrug. "But I always have, ever since I was little. They've just been more frequent lately I guess..." I trail off, feeling a warning flutter in my chest because Jack's hand has paused, tangled in a mess of my hair, and his face is more troubled than I thought him capable of. "Jack?"

"What kind of nightmares?"

His blunt tone catches me off guard. "I-I don't know, just senseless stuff. Stuff that shouldn't even make me feel scared. But...well, I guess there is sort of a recurring one."

This catches his attention further. He leans close to my face, eagerly, with a pressing urgency. "Of what?"

"What's the problem?" I try my best to sound irritated to hide my growing worry. "Jack, it's a stupid nightmare, I'm sure it's irrelevant to–"

"Mia, _please." _He finally untangles his fingers from my hair and wraps them around one of my hands. "I wouldn't be asking if I didn't think it was something important. What is the nightmare?"

I stare at him, long and hard, before sighing. "Okay. Basically, it will start of very...pleasantly. Maybe I'll be at the beach, or an amusement park, or...uh, you know. On a date with Darcy or something, maybe." I add this last part in a rushed mutter, a blush forming on my face. "A-Anyway, then things will just start to slowly get worse and worse. Nice, normal things just become twisted and creepy and scary, and there's always these weird black creatures made of sand. Sometimes they're wolves, sometimes horses..." I trail off again. Jack's face hardens as though something has been confirmed for him. I get the impression that he doesn't need to hear anymore, that I've answered any questions he had.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"I...well it never really came up," I tell him. "Besides, I'd forgotten about it. I haven't had the nightmare since...well, before I met you actually. Jack, it's just a nightmare. Why do you look so disturbed?"

"I have to go." He suddenly hops to his feet, grabbing his staff from an unseen place. He begins quickly pacing around my apartment, peering into corners and using his staff to poke into unseeable places. The frantic behaviour is starting to unnerve me. What the hell is he doing?

"Jack, what the hell is going on?" I demand, jumping to my feet. My ankle was momentarily forgotten, however, and the harsh, sudden pressure sends a sickening pain through my whole leg and I cry out.

This gets his attention. He rushes back over to catch me before I hit the ground. His fingers tense on my sides as he gives me a worried look. "I'm sorry. Are you alright?"

"You should be sorry, idiot," I hiss, blinking away tears. "What is this all about? You're being really weird."

He pulls me further into his arms, resting his chin gently on my head. "I can't say for certain right now. I need to go discuss something with the other Guardians, and I need you to stay in your apartment until I come back."

I struggle to pull away from him. "Wait, _what?_ Jack, what's going on?"

He doesn't answer. Instead, he wraps me up more tightly and darts down the hall to my bedroom. There, he gently drops me onto my unmade bed. Despite the chaos of the moment, I allow myself to feel embarrassed at my hurricane of a room, and I know if he wasn't so preoccupied he'd be rifling through my things and making snide comments about the various bras scattered across the floor.

"I'll come back as soon as possible," he says as he gathers some spare throw pillows to prop my foot up with. "And then I'll explain everything, I promise. But I need you to be safe, and try not to leave your apartment."

Rather than pressing further on the matter, I opt for scowling at him. "I'm not going to get very far with a sprained ankle, Jack."

His lips quirk into a smile, but it doesn't quite meet his eyes, which is concerning considering they're the one part of him that are always filled with joy. As annoyed as I am at him for keeping me in the dark, I can feel the beginnings of fear start to creep up inside of me. This is serious. Whatever it is, he's really worried, and that means I probably should be as well.

Once he's sure I'm situated properly, he stops and just stares at me. It's weird to see his youthful, joyous face look so drawn tight with worry. It unnerves me, because this isn't supposed to be serious. We're supposed to bicker and he's supposed to act so ridiculous that I end up laughing and...and it's supposed to be like the dream I made it out to be.

"I'm sorry," he says at last. He leans across me to press his lips to my forehead, and as he pulls away I reach out and grip the fabric of his hoodie. He stops, his face inches from mine, and looks down at me with an unreadable expression.

"Just tell me one thing," I whisper, my mouth suddenly feeling very dry. "Am I in some kind of danger?"

His eyes soften. "I really hope not."

And then he's gone. In the blink of an eye, he's disappeared from my room, leaving only cold air and the phantom brush of his lips on my skin in his wake.

I sigh and stare up at the ceiling. Why did this day have to take such a horrendously awful turn? I try to focus on the memory of Darcy's warm lips on my cheek and on his perfect smile, but my ankle is throbbing with a dull ache, and the hollow feeling of unexplained fear sits in my gut like a stone.

* * *

**Oooh things have taken a bit of a serious turn! This story is going to have some actual plot to it, rather than just a series of one shots, but there are still going to be many moments of fluffy goodness, rest assured.**

**Anyway, thanks for reading! Please review if you've got the time :)**


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